


Marks

by violet_quill



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Post - Order of the Phoenix, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-07
Updated: 2010-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violet_quill/pseuds/violet_quill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were lovers, but only in the dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marks

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2004 at the prompt "marked man." Originally posted [here](http://violet-quill.livejournal.com/7881.html).

I was hiding from him. We both knew it, but the difference was that I knew why and he did not.

We made love in the dark. Always in the dark. When his hands tugged at my shirt I would stiffen, though after a while this reaction dissipated and the familiarity of the act soothed my discomfort. And yet – after months – I had yet to acquiesce to a single lit candle by our bed.

Still, months were nothing for us. Our relationship was thirty years in the making, and its course had been such that _evolved_ seemed an inappropriate description – more like, _fought_. Our love fought its way past friendship, which had barely slid beyond mutual respect, having ground through tolerance, trampled upon dislike, and nearly died an agonizing death at the hands of loathing.

And now we were lovers, in the dark.

He kissed me roughly as we sat on his bed, and I gripped his thigh and growled into his mouth. In familiar response he began to undress me, and then suddenly stopped. My eyes were closed to shield me through his kisses, and I only heard the word.

" _Lumos_."

My eyes flew open and I saw him holding his wand, its end emitting an ominous glow.

"I want to see you," he said. This was not the first such request, but it would, I decided at that moment, be the last.

I'm not sure what possessed me to nod, what made me unbutton my shirt and pull it off of my arms, what feeling conjured my desire to see his face as he sucked in a breath.

"There." I watched his face without expression of my own. "You see, now. I'm marked."

I tried to imagine what he must be seeing – my chest, crisscrossed by scars. Deep, angry white scars that slashed from my throat to my abdomen, down my arms and across the tops of my thighs. There was nothing masculine about these marks – nothing heroic or rugged. They were souvenirs of my own madness, my own rage.

"I could feel them," he told me quietly.

"I know. But it's not the same as having to look at them, is it?" I made no effort to disguise the bitterness in my voice.

Suddenly, his eyes darkened. "Did you really think me so shallow that I would care about such things?"

"It's not that." A sigh escaped my lips as my head dropped and I studied my own hands. "I can stand anyone's pity but yours, Severus."

I heard his voice, harsh and short. " _I do not pity you_."

I looked up. "What?"

He thrust out an arm so that his fist touched my chest, and violently pulled up the sleeve of his robe. "There," he snarled. "You see, _now_? This is a mark, Remus."

The blackness twisted around his forearm, an almost unintelligible symbol- the Dark Mark. I had seen it before, but I had never… looked at it, before.

"This doesn't just scar my flesh." His eyes flashed. "It scars my _soul_."

I realized in that moment what it was that bound us together. Our relationship had succeeded against what had been stacked against us… because of our pain. We had both suffered more than most men, and we did so in silent. Together, the memories did not vanish. The pain was not gone, and it wasn't even forgotten. But somehow, we both found it easier to bear.

I wrapped my hands around the white knuckled fist and brought my lips down to the mark on his arm. "Let's light a candle," I said. "I want to see you tonight."


End file.
